When My Time Comes
by Demon's Poet
Summary: UP FOR ADOPTION! PM ME!
1. Chapter 1:Gotta Be A Monday

**Chapter One: It's Gotta be a Monday.**

It had to be Monday, not that Greg really knew or not. Then again, he never knew what day it was. All cause of the bullshit he had to put up with day in and out.

Greg Wilf Zeph Pete Schrader, the "abnormal" space marine. Abnormal was putting it lightly. Greg was an ex-mercenary, ex-Imperial Guardsman and a whole ton of other things. He was also the last of his chapter. The Crimson Skull Scythes, he was now head of said chapter, and he'd be damned if life wasn't trying to fuck with him at this very moment. Not only that, he was huge, even for a space marine, he was an easy match to a Terminator in height.

Quite literally right now, this lone space marine was sitting inside a bunker and very, pissed off. The wonderment is why. Well, to answer that, you'd have to understand the situation. Greg or otherwise known as the "Imperial Scythe" a nickname he was given from, well, just about everyone. Was sitting there, watching a battle grow, while he was in command of a single battalion of guardsman that are meant to hold this outpost on this frozen death ball of a planet.

Fighting on three fronts was not an easy job, but, he would get it done, just like he always did. At this very moment though, he was backed up into a wall, he had his forces in a holding pattern of defense. He held the least amount of ground, but the most fire power against the forces of Tau, Eldar, and the Orks. This in all honesty was going well for him. Seeing how he had pulled out completely of the fight to let the other forces kick each other in the balls as he liked to say.

Now, this also raised many questions among his subordinates, who the only reason he was in command of, was cause of his long and lost chapter being all but gone with the expectation of him. Questions such as, 'aren't we going to fight for glory?' or 'you mean he's not going to send us out to be cannon fodder?' and even his favorite, and I'm quoting this. **"YOU MEAN WE GET TO LIVE!?" **

That one always brought a smile to his face, and in all honesty, if he had it his way, they wouldn't have to fight at all. He liked the Tau and Eldar, got along fine with them; actually both sides knew him equally well. The Eldar, for one, cause he knew of their past, seeing how his chapters library was extensive to say the least. It rivaled that of even the oldest chapters. He knew of their origins and to an extent, their other race name. "Elf" which usually raised the question "What's an elf?" a question that he answered himself easily on.

He had liked the Tau for a different reason; they had a sense of right and wrong. A sense, that, most people did not have especially now. In the 41st millennium, there was nothing but war, and that's how it's been for, well, more than a few thousand years. At least, to Greg's knowledge.

Sitting there, just waiting, filled nothing silence as his advisers were trying to figure out what to do. They were standing over a holo-map of the area that was being fought, which just so happened to be an old piece of technology from a lost time. Not even the Eldar knew what it was, and they were an older race than any of them present at this battle.

Finally, he stood up, and the black armored Astartes had walked over to the holo-map to inspect the situation thus far. This in all cases is a good thing, due to his ability to nearly solve most strategic matters in seconds. In the past, most people had said that he should of attempt for a higher role than just a normal Battle-brother. Well, at the beginning of his start as a space marine that is. That was until; his entire chapter went 'missing.' And by missing, it means either dead or a heretic.

Sighing, he looked it over and marveled for a moment, then a wonders idea sprung to mind which made him grin like no tomorrow.

Quickly he turned around and walked to his gear that he had left on a nearby work space of his, he first picked up his helmet, the Corvus Power Helmet with a Bionic eye attached to it, the visor color was a dim purple when deactivated, which it was at the moment. Next to the bionic eye and right between both eyes. Straight on the lower forehead was a greyish human skull design with the lower jaw missing.

Quickly he slipped the almost all black helmet onto his head, he reached out and grabbed his sidearm, a single customized bolt-pistol which was customized with an automatic firing capability, and it's magazine was upgraded from a small ten round clip to a 35 drum magazine with a small power bayonet at the end under the firing barrel and in front of the drum-clip.

Pulling that up loading it and putting it in its holster on his hip, he then reached out and pulled out a, most unexpected weapon. An Eviscerator, which for him would be an easy one handed weapon due to his extra size, he was large. Even for a space marine. He could easily match the height of a Terminator, even if they are hunch backs as Greg came to calling them, as stated before. He pulled it up and gave it a quick twirl like it was a normal bladed weapon before bringing it up and slipped it down onto his back.

Then reaching out, he grabbed a, seemingly normal Bolter; slick, black, just like most of his gear. Although it was a bit bigger to fit his comfort, and due to it's bigger than average size it held a lot more than it's normal amount of rounds. It holds about forty-five explosive tipped rounds. Quickly slipped that onto his other hip which was held comfortably there, like it was some sort of pistol yet the size of a normal rifle, it was only strange to see though, for him, it was very comfortable and somehow made it easy for him to maneuver. One would think it would constrict but it doesn't.

After that he reached out and grabbed a few grenades, two Krak, and two Melta grenades. After that, he finished up and grabbed his extra ammunition. Afterwards, the black and crimson astartes turned away from the station where he had left his weapons and helm at, then began to walk towards the door of the bunker to join the frontlines. He had a plan, and there was no way in hell that he wouldn't see it through. All he needed now were volunteers.

He started to move a bit faster to exit the bunker like base for the imperial guard's camp, upon exiting, what he came to see, was as he expected. This one small bunker ascent to a second one, this one having a com-tower sticking out of the top, and then in front of them was a trench that ran the span of the small canyon walls that they had based themselves at.

Seeing both walls were pretty close, it made a good forward outpost, plus, with the main base a only maybe, an hour behind it. It wouldn't take too long for reinforcements to arrive if they hustled.

Quickly, he moved to the trenches entrance to quickly be greeted by one of the guardsman. "Ah, hello Milord. Heading out to the field, or just checking up on us grunts?" He asked in a teasing manner. It was informal though, and Greg liked that. He was never too big on the whole bow on one knee and give me complete respect. No, Greg believed in earning respect through both words, and actions. Meaning two things, one, and in the words of someone else. "Don't be a cheeky dick waffle." Two: Don't do something stupid.

"Well, neither to be honest, I've come together a few volunteers for a, well, to be completely blunt…" He trailed off before sighing. "A suicide mission."

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><p><em><strong>Well, looks like this went better than I had planned. Woohoo! Well if you're wondering what exactly this character looks like, don't worry, probably a few minutes after this is posted or, right when it's posted, it'll have a picture. Now, a full description of Greg's armor.<strong>_

_**Helmet: Mark VI Corvus with Bionic Eye on his left side. Violet Visor and the H.U.D. Outline color is a Blood red. Also, in between the two eyes, there was a greyish skull. The main color was black again. **_

**_Chest-plate: Mark VIII Errant Power Armour without the neck piece. (Same with the back piece.)Mostly black, but the middle part which was turned into a two headed bird like creature was made a deep grey like the skull upon the helm. A purity seal on the right side of the chest plate as well._**

**_Backpack (Without Jump-pack): All black, Joints to the exhaust crimson, and the exhaust is a blood red which the metal has also been customized to hold the shape of bloody skulls. The main color being black with the crown as well as black. _**

**_Lower Armor: Mark VII Aquila and on it's left leg was the Gothic number 9. On it's right leg, the roman numeral 1 was on the knee just like the previous. (Both Numbers blood red.) The main Color being black. _**

**_Arms Upper and Elbow: Mark VII Aquila, both being crimson on both sides._**

**_Arms Lower and Gauntlets: Mark VII Aquila, completely black with the gauntlets having a single customization, the knuckles having small spikes to be able to do more damage when in hang to hand combat. _**

**_Pauldrons: Mainly black again with a bright red trim, the right shoulder piece having both a purity seal on it, and a bright red skull on it just like the trimming color. _**

_**In full armor his height is about 9 feet tall. Without it he's 8'11''. **_

_**Short Black hair with the fallout style "unsettler." young looking, strangely young for a space marine, but no one but he knows his real age.**_

_**(I'd like to apologize real quickly, it seems something went wrong and part of the writing was erased so I'm fixing it.) **_

_**His gene seed mutated to a, strange and unique way. It changed him into more than a human yes, but, it didn't take away much of said humanity. Most of his organs worked, most of everything worked afterwords. Sadly, those were removed and replaced with machinery only to be later again replaced by artificial organs. Requested by Greg himself. **_

_**This male Space Marine, is one of the few if not only, who can actually change out of his armor without the help of tech-marines or anyone\thing of that caliber. Same with getting back in. **_

_**Greg also learned the ways of being a Master of the forge. Though at a slower pace cause he refused, flat out refused, to use robotic limbs, but that didn't stop him. **_

_**Luckily for him, the only reasons he had learned these skills, was cause he was the last of his chapter. Unfortunately, he was the last of his chapter. The Crimson Skull Scythes. Either dead or a heretic, that's all it was. And this group was shunned cause of it. **_

_**Greg only had to learn these skills because he had a responsibility to bring this chapter back to life. **_

_**Want more of an explaination? PM ME! Want to pitch in? Add OCs? PM ME! (or leave a review.) Also! Gonna need help with this one. I know a little bit of the 40K Universe, but…I'm not a master. By far a master. ANYWHO Read, Review, and maybe fav? Idk. Also Yes I left it at a cliffy, it'll tell me if this is worth continuing or not. I cannot even tell at this point if anything of my other writings are good enough to continue.**_

_**Please I apologize for fucking up so badly and having to correct this, don't hate me!**_


	2. Chapter 2:Gotta Be A Tuesday

**Chapter Two: Gotta Be A Tuesday**

"…." There was silence coming from the guardsman before he sighed and nodded. "I understand my lord. I just wonder how the men will react."

"That's why I said I'd be looking for volunteers." Greg told the younger male in front of him. In all honesty, Greg may not look it, but he was pretty old. Over a whole century in fact, he was just glad the gene seed in him and all the other adaptions as he called them, pretty much gave him immortality over his time in this mortal plain.

The man kneeled and bowed his head. "Well, in any case milord. It's an honor to serve with you, and an honor to have served with you in worst case scenario." That got a chuckle from the older and large male who moved his hand and patted the much smaller soldier on the back.

"Please, no need Guardsman, we will win this fight, though I know not all of us will come back from this… My only fear is this damned relic of old doesn't draw the forces of chaos to our door step, or else we'll be in for a hard fight." Greg explained with a smile half way through until the mention of both chaos and the relic of unknown origin.

From what Greg knew of the reason everyone was fighting over it, Greg is supposed to guard it for the inquisition to arrive and look it over before deciding to study it, or destroy it. The Eldar wanted to preserve it as if a holy icon, which kind of made Greg left knowing their history a bit.

From what the black armored space marine could guess was that the Tau wanted it for study, and possible advancement in their own technology, as for the Orks... Well, they were green skins, what could Greg really say in their defense? 'oh hey sorry, greenskins just want to take this possibly relic of the emperor himself apart to put on a ship.'? Like, seriously, Greg couldn't really find anything to say about that in their defense. Not that he hated Orks like everyone else did, he just found them, distasteful due to their war-like nature.

That's probably what did make him attack on instinct against them though.

Moving on from that little thought bubble in his mind, he quickly moved forward and lead the guardsman into the trench where groups of them were lined up shooting at anything that came close to the line, and then others who were sticking down, relaxing, eating, chatting. Doing all sorts of different things, this didn't make the large astartes mad, no; in fact he honestly allowed it and enjoyed it. It added a somewhat friendlier atmosphere to the area.

Said atmosphere that everyone enjoyed and respected. Including the space marine, though any other adeptus astartes would have found this shameful. Of both, the guardsmen who were under command of this black armored, young war veteran of a space marine, and shameful of said space marine.

That's when the fully armored guardsman that had followed Greg had stepped next to him and whistled before pulling his helmet to reveal the blonde haired Corporal. "Alrighty! Line up on the orders of our lord." He said loudly, usually most people would bitch or say something stupid, but, hearing the tone and how serious the more tense soldier had spoken in. So they did as they were told to, knowing what was about to happen would probably be something bad.

Once they were lined up, Greg sighed and reached up to pull off his helmet to reveal the youthful face, but with the eyes of experience and shear worry for his soldiers. _Heh,_ _his_ _soldier,_ that made him smile mentally. Shaking his head he went back to reality and started to speak, loud enough for all in front of him to hear, and it was about twenty guardsmen at the moment anyways, not add the ones who were now showing up to figure out what was going on.

"…I wish this situation would not have arose, but sadly, I cannot change it. Not alone anyways, if there was anything I could do alone, I would…And not in danger any of your lives…" He started slowly walking around, going towards the front of the trench hoping up and climbing to stand taller than he was already. He then quickly turned around quickly.

"You all know me somewhat at least in the time we've spent here together. Brothers in arms, in this bloodbath we call a skirmish...You know I'm not one for speech… So I'll keep it simple, I'm looking for volunteers for a suicide mission, led by none other than me, at least that way none of you must shoulder the burden of seeing your allies, your friends, your _family_, fall…"

"…" No one said anything, and this allowed him to continue. "But with this mission, comes a large chance, a chance to both weaken all sides of our foes…The Tau, the Eldar, and the Orks… This plan is simple enough, it's just a matter how long and how fast you can run…" This earned a couple chuckles as he did attempt to lighten the mood.

"This mission will allow us to weaken all of them greatly, which would lead to an easy assault to wipe them all off this planet for good. It is a simple plan, charge the Orks to get their attention, and lead them on a wild goose chase across the Tau's defense perimeter, and then into the Eldar's base." That got a few people to think, actually more than that, they ended up looking at each other as if mentally calling themselves, and the higher command groups idiots for not thinking of things like this.

Then again, honor did kind of stand in the way of using simple tactics and strategies to win. That was probably why Greg won almost every game of Chess he ever played with his chapter before they, died. He only lost twice, once to the chapter master before him, and then another time when he got cocky.

"There is one thing I'd like to express though…" Gaining the attention back to him again, which made him smile to them, grimly, but, at least it somewhat lightened his mood. "I am looking for volunteers only…No one is being forced to go…This mission as I said is a suicide mission and I would never intentionally endanger your lives for some fringe glory or honor, that doesn't even exist to me." The astartes continued his somewhat speech.

"This, is sadly is to win a damned-able and possible Xeno machine for study, but not only that, it keeps a possibly dangerous weapon out of the hands of the Tau, the Orks, and even the Eldar!" He was loud and proud of that fact. Which added a little more glory to this fact. "This isn't for ourselves, if we win, we are possible winning a major victory for our whole race, not just our Lord Emperor, but to all of the Imperium!" He roared louder now, gaining some cheers.

"This could change the war forever! We could possibly end this war!" Another roar, and even louder cheers, not just from those of the now larger crowd he had drawn.

"This is for the Emperor, for you, for me, for all of our race! For the Emperor! For the Imperium! For all of Man!" He shouted loudly, this did turn into a long and, well, possibly dangerous rally speech if he were a man of that kind. "..All of you who wish to join this mission for the glorious downfall of the enemies of man, and to protect all of mankind, step forward!"

And another loud roaring of cheers and yells, and battle cries could be heard has he had steeled the hearts of these men. He had thirty, no forty men step forward, which was only a tenth of the full forces he had at the moment, but, it was enough. More than enough in fact, this would be a big help for Greg truthfully. Hell, he may even get them all home in one piece.

"…All of you who step forward, I wish to ask one question…are you willing to give your lives, your full trust in not only me, but each other, as warriors of man, as guardsman, as battle brothers!?" He asked loudly, and all of them shouted back at him in a proud manner. "YES!"

"Then follow me! We make way for the Ork encampment!" He quickly raised his fist to instill just a-little more courage and possibly act a little cheesier. "For the Emperor, for the Imperium, For All of Man!" He shouted loudly which another wave of cheers and battle cries roared through the base and trenches that laid outside of their little base.

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><p><em>So, how was that? Everyone enjoy? Oh, and yes, I am back, but inconsistently due to schedule purposes. I'd like to say, this chapter got a lot more involved than I had hopped. And while writing it, I did feel a, twing of emotion as I wrote it...I guess I'm weird huh? : Ah well! That just means I'm human! Speaking of which! Any questions or anything you'd like answered? PM or Leave it in the Reviews. Flamers and everyone else is welcome to leave their opinion as well! ^^ I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Demon's Poet, out! _

_OH and PS: I may, just MAY accept SOME OCs for reviving his dead chapter, if people would like to send those in through PM or find me with a review, and I'll PM you and you can PM it to me that way. Anywho, I'm still a little on the fence about reviving it though. May happen with some people's OCs, may not. Anyways as I said before Demon's Poet out! READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! (REVISED FOR SIMPLE MISTAKES OF SPELLING AND WORDS! Though I am still looking._


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